


The Day I Stop Loving You, Is The Day I Die

by httplarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Gay, Gay Love, Harry Styles - Freeform, Heart Break, Heart broken, LGBT, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Love, M/M, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, trigger warning, tw/, tw/ heart break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httplarrie/pseuds/httplarrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe," Louis rose from the floor. Clearly he was choking up, unable to say the words trying to escape but he tried anyway. "We just weren't meant to be."</p><p>or</p><p>Harry tries to look back and see where everything went wrong between him and Louis, and the more he looked back, the more he found answers — he didn't want to find answers. He just loved Louis so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day I Stop Loving You, Is The Day I Die

**Author's Note:**

> A little short, sad fic. I'm pretty proud of this, to be honest. Hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it.

Harry had never known what a heart beak felt like, but the aching of his chest told him otherwise. The week he spent lying on his bed, a pool of tears by his pillow, and his whole body curled up into himself told him otherwise.

His head pounded with every move he made, heart feeling like it was lying limp on the ground next to him, while he struggled to breathe, gasping for air. Everything hurt. Everything hurt so bad, and he just wanted to understand. How?

How did he end up here, on his bed staring up at the ceiling for hours on end, without moving an inch? They were happy. They were so, so happy, and content and – how?

Harry thought maybe it started on their second year of college and third year of relationship, back when they were dorming together, both their beds pushed to form one big bed. They fought, yes, but that was normal for anybody in any relationship, right? I mean, no two people could _always_ get along. It was how life worked. What was different about their fighting, though, was that it was always about same the thing, always involved the same people, the same accusations, the same record playing over, and over, and over...

“Louis would you take a minute to just listen to yourself and realize how ridiculous you sound?” Harry asked, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. He remained seated on their bouncy bed, while Louis walked back and forth in front of it, his hands deeply burrowed in his disheveled hair. Louis’ pretty features were contorted, making him grimace as figurative fumes blew out of his ears.

“Ridiculous?” Louis repeated, as if he didn’t hear Harry the first time, as if he said some forbidden word and he was making sure it actually did come out of his mouth. “You think I’m being ridiculous? I’m sorry _you’re_ the one who keeps disappearing every night to meet up with him. I’m sorry I notice all the small glances you exchange and the gestures. I am so, terribly sorry the little shrivel of trust I had left disappeared. Must be inconvenient for you, yeah? ”

Louis was yelling at this point, Harry knowing that if anyone was home, they’d be able to hear the quarrel with how paper thin the dormitory walls were.

Harry had never seen his boyfriend this mad, not at him at least. Towards Harry, Louis was always softer. He used his ‘Harry voice’, (as the boys called it) speaking softer to him, than he did to any one.

But this was new.

Louis never yelled at Harry the way he was doing now and even though he was shorter than him, Harry much bigger in size, he couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted and turned, his palms sweating as he blinked up at his lover from where he was seated.

“I’m not-“ Harry could feel the tears start to sting, moving his gaze down at his lap, because to think Louis thought what he did… Harry never gave him a reason to be so irrational. Since the day they got together, and even before, Harry only ever saw Louis. He was the only thing that mattered to him, the only person Harry would ever put before himself. And here he was, pacing the room while he listed the reason how Harry was off with another man. It made his hearr heavy. “I’m not in love with Nick, Louis, I love you. Okay? Why won't you trust me, I, I’d never…” He swallowed. “Cheat on you.” Just the word made Harry’s skin crawl, and more tears brim at his eyes. It was painful to say and even more painful to know that Louis would ever believe that.

The Doncaster lad had always been wary of Nick, always. He made sure not be shy when it came to verbalizing his hatred towards him. But Harry didn’t know it was to this extent. He didn’t know every night Louis spent spouting, he actually meant every single word. He wasn’t aware that every talk of him being a ‘horrible person’, he was being sincere. And, Harry didn’t comprehend. Sure, him and Nick were close – closer than he would like to admit – and yes, he’d cuddle into him when Louis wasn’t there or, liked to hang out with him specifically but that never meant anything. He’d never do that to Louis.

Louis took in a deep breath in, the way he’d do when he was frustrated, seeming to be tugging harshly on his hair. He stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as he stared at the small stain of mustard he made on the carpeted floor. He remembered how upset Harry was that day to see a big yellow stain where it used to be beige. He spent an hour on that floor, using different products on it and rubbing it on the stain. It never went away, though.

“I need some air.” He whispered softly into the silent dorm, nothing but both their breathing being heard and the low thunder of the party that was happening down the hall. (The twins always had parties on Saturday’s. Bugged the hell out of Louis, especially when he needed to sleep)

Harry got up and stood in front of Louis, nosing his cheek softly as he held onto his waist desperately. “Lou, please” He murmured, the words almost sounding like a whine when it came out of his mouth. “I’d never do that to you, I love you, I’d never do that to you,” He kept chanting the words, like a broken record, feeling his partner start to peel away from his body. That was when the tears started flowing, watching Louis slip his shoes on, grab his jacket and walk out with a loud bang of the door.

He never came back to him that night, the boy spending it crying into his pillow until dawn peaked.

Maybe that was when things started to get shaky.

But then, Harry thought some more, dug deep into his past memories, scavenging for any sort of clue he might’ve missed or brushed past. Then his mind landed on one memory in particular.

It was a couple months after the dorm incident. Harry and Louis never spoke of it and never told anyone about it, (which, in hindsight, probably was one of their biggest mistakes) simply enjoying the night they were having at the club with the lads.

It was like any other drunken night, really. The loud bass of the music shook the ground and made the walls vibrate, the cluster of sweaty people grinding their bodies against each other, and emitting even more heat. Everyone, of course, was drunk off their arses, and that included the boys.

"Did you get her number?" Liam chuckled as Niall made his way back to the group, waving a napkin between his two fingers, he himself laughing.

The boys pointed at it in disbelief, moving over to create a seat where Niall used to sit.

"It was quite easy, to be honest." Niall spoke up, picking up the half empty pint of beer he left on the table, continuing to recount his story of how he got the girl. It was horrifyingly detailed and Harry was immensely thankful that he wasn't listening.

His mind was wandering, turning his friend's conversations into nothing but muffled sounds, background noises.

He was sandwiched between Nick and Louis in the booth, and just that made him want to leave already. Whenever his friend would lean in to tell him something, tried and made him laugh, Louis would squeeze Harry's thigh as if to warn him, making him rip his attention away from Nick and to him.

Louis couldn't say anything here, in fear of possibly making a scene, so all he could ever do was look at Harry, eyes pouring into the other's soul.

Harry never knew what that look meant, but it seemed to be coated with so many layers, it made it hard for Harry to get past it.

"Stop doing that." Harry whispered to Louis when everyone's attention wasn't on them, focusing on another one of Niall Horan's stories that so easily grabbed your interest.

Louis turned, barely looking at him and, again, as if to spite him, squeezed his thigh. "I'm not doing anything." He said, shrugging his shoulders softly, emphasizing his innocence in all of this.

It wasn't the act that made Harry's heart heavy, it was the fact that Louis felt the need to even do it. The fact that he felt the need to display his 'property' — because that was what Harry was to him. Property.

It made him sick to his stomach to be seen as such, and even more so just to be in it of it all.

Harry flicked Louis' hand off of him, getting up from the comfy couch and maneuvering his way to the bar. He couldn't take this sober.

As he walked, as though the boy had a sixth sense, he felt the presence of someone lurking behind him, ghosting over him only to pounce at any second.

Harry just assumed it was Louis, about to go on about Nick and him, but to his surprise, it was actually his older friend.

Nick leaned on the bar next to Harry, his elbow bumping into Harry's as he ordered one of the stronger drinks, the curly headed boy doing the same.

Nick didn't utter a word up until the drinks were slid to them, downing it in one quick motion.

"Louis doesn't quite like me, does he?" He wondered out loud, ordering another shot while this time, looking at Harry.

Harry eyed over Nick's strong features, eyeing his peculiar head structure, and interesting eyes. He really was not bad to look at but no matter how hard he tried, Harry wasn't able to think of him as anything more than… Nick.

He was just Nick, for crying out loud, the man who was there at any time of need, the man from a few doors down. Harry just didn't understand what Louis was so worried about.

The lad realized that he still hadn't replied to him, exhaling a breath of air he didn't know he was holding in. "Um," He started, trying to find the right words to use that wouldn't offend anyone. "I don't know, he's always been dry with people he just met, you'll warm up to him."

"It's been months." Nick pointed out, his eyes wandering to the way Harry tapped his finger rapidly on the glass he was holding, seemingly restless. "He hates it when we hang out together, for some reason, and whenever-"

"Listen, if you think Louis hates you, then maybe you should go fucking ask him about it. Either way, it's your own business." Harry snapped, feeling this pent up rage bubbling deep in his inner core. He was just… mad. Not at Nick, per say, but at everything that happened and everything that was bound to happen — it was too much.

"Hey, hey," The older man said, resting a cautious hand on Harry's shoulder, and rubbing his thumb over the bone that protruded out slightly.

Nick took Harry's hand in his larger one, gesturing for him to follow him. Harry protested but the man kept convincing him, tugging him through the heat of the people on the dance floor, pushing past the group of wet bodies.

Harry was too fed up to stop him, so he let himself be dragged along to the very back of the club, to a more secluded area where the noise wasn't as loud and blaring, and there were much less people — which relieved a lot of Harry's stress.

The area was dimly lit, a couch being placed to the wall with a couple of doors lining up the side of it on each side. Harry guessed they were bathrooms, but if they were, he was surprised no one was out here puking their guts out or crying about a break up.

Nick took a seat on the leather couch, and so did Harry. They remained quiet for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that made it possible to think, and relax, relieving your body of anything it had been harboring. And Harry had been harboring a lot.

With every puff of air Harry sucked in, his heart got heavier and his eyes wetter. It came to a point where he couldn't even help himself anymore, leaning backwards onto the leather couch as the warm tears began to cascade down his face, his efforts of stopping them being ineffective.

He tried to stop, he really did, but it almost felt like he was reliving everything once again. It was so unbearably painful that all he could do was sob into his hands.

Harry could feel his friend sitting by his side pulling him closer by his shoulders, resting his head down onto his broad shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but Harry didn't tell Nick that, just soaked his shirt that probably cost a fortune.

Nick kept murmuring the words 'It's okay.' and, 'It'll be alright.' while all Harry wanted to shout was that it wasn't going to be. He wasn't being pessimistic, he was facing reality. And it struck him that this was something that had been true for a long time now. But maybe he did know it. Maybe he was aware of the facts that were laid out in front of him, but chose to turn a blind eye. It was easier to pretend than to acknowledge. And that was exactly what Harry did. Pretend.

Harry was glad Nick didn't pester him with questions, asking him why he was even crying in the first place because he didn't think he'd be able to answer that.

The loud remixed pop songs was still thumping, but it was all in the background. The people screaming, partying, it was all nothing but background noise to be faded out by his sobs.

"Haz," Nick finally whispered, his fingers digging into Harry's hair the way Louis did whenever he was sad, nails gently scratching the scalp to soothe him. But this wasn't Louis.

The boy looked up, meeting Nick's eyes who was looking right back at him. His eyes held something Harry couldn't quite place his finger on. They were looking at him with such tenderness, his thumb wiping away his salty tears.

But, Harry completely froze, like a deer caught on headlights, when he saw Nick lean his head in, inching his head closer to his own. He didn’t know how to feel. His first instinct was to pull back. He wanted to, tried with all his might, but it was as though he was completely paralyzed, from head to toe. Harry’s heart was thumping when he felt his friend’s forehead press onto his, words caught in his throat.

Before he himself could do anything, Nick’s lips only a few centimeters away, Harry heard someone cussing loudly in the distance, ripping him away from Nick’s embrace to whip his head around.

Harry could sense his entire world crashing down around him once his eyes laid on Louis, who shook his head at him in disbelief. Nothing could erase Harry’s memory of the look of pain on Louis’ face that moment, his face soon turning into anger within seconds.

“Louis-“

“Fuck you!” Louis seethed, taking a huge step back when Harry tried to approach him, his arms out. He shot down any attempts Harry made of explaining himself, his chest bubbling with a certain feeling he couldn’t define. It ached, and it was hard to ignore.

Louis’ head was spinning with thoughts, every one of them feeling like bullets. He knew he was right. He was right all along and he loathed himself for not seeing it earlier because it was so clear. 

“Fuck you,” He repeated, again and again, pushing Harry against the wall while both his arms pressed against the wall to trap him in.

Nick pried the lad off of Harry, who was rambling incoherent sentences, his words unable to be understood with how much he was crying.

"Let me explain-I didn't-" Harry was shaking his head, his fingers wrapping around Louis' wrists to get him to listen but he was quick to squirm them free. 

"How could you?" Louis shouted. He turned to look at the ceiling, almost wanting to laugh because—he felt so stupidly dumb. 

Nick tried to hold onto Harry, who was trying to chase after Louis, shouting his name. 

There was a point where he shoved Nick off of him, wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. He wanted to scream, and scream, and punch the walls, but all Harry managed to do was sink down onto the cold tiled floor, ignoring anything Nick said to him.

He blocked him out. He blocked everyone out, whispering things to himself he was sure the lad by his side couldn't hear.

Harry was trying convince himself that none of this was happening. He hoped that if he squeezed his eyes tight enough, forcing the tears to stop, that he would wake up from all this because it was nothing but a nightmare. 

Harry opened his eyes, though, and he was still in the back of the club, still on the floor and with Nick still by his side.

And it broke his heart.

"Go to him." Nick just whispered, smiling softly at Harry, knowing it wasn't the time to try and justify himself.

Even though he was the last person he wanted to listen to, Harry still got up from his seat on the floor, nodding to no one in particular. 

"I'm really sorry." Nick added before Harry was completely engulfed back into the crowd.

That didn't matter though, whether he was sorry or not, because what was done, was done. They couldn't turn back time, no matter how hard he prayed.

*

Harry parked his car in front of the house he shared with Louis, seeing the lights turned on inside which meant he was home.

As he walked up the driveway, he could feel himself letting out a small breath. He was just glad Louis was here, and not out wandering because that would've left him more worried.

At least now, he could talk to him calmly, no songs echoing around the room or Nick, just him and Louis.

With one quick move, Harry got his keys out and opened the door, stepping into the house.

He could hear the sound of doors opening and slamming shut, quickly figuring out it came from upstairs.

Harry darted up into their rooms, standing by the door as he watched, with wide eyes, Louis throw all of his belongings down onto the floor next to a duffel back, raiding their closet.

"What're you doing?" Harry asked, walking over to the boy to hold onto his shoulder but he only got pushed back. "Louis, stop, what're you-"

"I'm getting out of here!" The smaller boy threw his own clothes at him, making him step back abruptly.

"I didn't kiss him, Lou," Harry said softly, doing everything to try and hold Louis in place, only to have his arms yanked off. "I didn't,"

"You were going to. Are you actually going to sit here and try to lie to me? I'm so fucking stupid for ever believing you. I knew it would happen eventually, I should've just-"

"- I didn't-"

"-listened to myself. How could I have ever trusted you?" Louis was trying to hide it, wiping away at his face every other minute, but he was crying, red eyes doing everything to not look back into Harry's.

He knew if he did, he'd break down completely.

"Why don't you?" Harry exclaimed, shoving back Louis' clothes into the closet. "Louis, you know I love you too much to do this." He said desperately, his boyfriend still throwing clothes down. 

He pushed Harry away when he knelt down to pack the bag, despite the crying boy holding him back.

"Louis, please, don't leave. I love you so, so much. You're all I h-ave, please don't do this to me." Harry clung to the smaller boy, arms wrapped around his frame tightly as his face buried into his shoulder, his cries filling up the room along with the sound of Louis zipping up the bag. 

"Don't leave, Louis." Harry begged, hot tears flowing down. He couldn't. Not after everything-he couldn't.

"Maybe," Louis rose from the floor. Clearly he was choking up, unable to say the words trying to escape but he tried anyway. "We just weren't meant to be."

Harry could feel his stomach drop. He felt like he just got his heart ripped right out of his chest, leaving a gaping hole where Louis used to be.

But nothing hurt more than seeing him walk away and hear the door downstairs slam shut, nothing could replace the pain Harry felt when the house dropped dead silent.

Louis was gone. 

He was gone and, unlike last time, for good.


End file.
